


Star Eyed Boy

by TheFairestOfTheRare



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 06:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFairestOfTheRare/pseuds/TheFairestOfTheRare





	Star Eyed Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElleVine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElleVine/gifts).



"Do you really _have_ to wear that hat?" Pansy scoffed, spreading down the ends of her skirt as she eyed him from the armchair.   
  
Grinning, Ron adjusted the red and gold hat in the mirror, purposefully taking his time. Pansy was all harsh words and too much honesty, but Ron wouldn't change her for the world. She was softer than she showed, a kindness inside of her she was too afraid to show.   
  
Ron had never been more grateful for his childhood upbringing than when he heard Pansy spill hers - the stories of her mother's cruel tongue and her father's ignorance. Ron had never been more grateful to have a mother who was sometimes interfering, and a father who wanted nothing more than to fix things with a son.   
  
"You mean..." Spinning on his heel to face her. " _This_ , hat? This, glorious, bold _and_ courageous hat?"   
  
Scoffing again, Pansy rolled her eyes, examining her manicure. "It's atrocious, that's what it is."   
  
"It'll keep me warm," Ron whined, moving towards her with his hand extended. "You don't want me to freeze now, d'you?"   
  
Her eyes narrowed, gazing from her hand to his eyes before reluctantly taking it, and being pulled to his feet. "If I'm honest, I'd rather you _freeze_ for the whole of winter if it means you don't embarrass me in hideous knitwear."   
  
Ron seemed to survey her for a second, grinning and pulling her close, and hovering his lips over hers before leaning back, watching her eyes narrow to pinpoints.   
  
"Don't like my knitwear, don't get my kisses." He pulled out two gloves that made her groan even louder.  "I think you're just jealous. You want to be cool enough to have a matching knitwear set."   
  
She stared purposefully. "I think we all know _I_ do not."   
  
Tilting his head side-to-side obnoxiously, Pansy glared at him pointedly. "I think we all do. You cannot be a cruel bitch anymore without a matching glove set, Malfoy told me."   
  
Pansy groaned obnoxiously, shoving him timidly with her hand. " _One_ , he did no such thing. _Two_ , just because _Potter_ has gotten Malfoy to do whatever he so asks, does not mean I will. And _three_ , you, Ronald Weasley, are the _actual_ worst."   
  
"But you love me..."   
  
He loved when she tried to roll her eyes and smile at the same time, trying to suppress a laugh as his hand checked his coat pocket one more time, feeling the box safely tucked away.   


  
Pansy trailed her eyes over the buildings, utterly confused as to why he would even think this would be enjoyable. Muggle decorations were nothing short of shit, the lights seemingly childish as they swung in the brisk wind. She could, however, admit that it added a hue to the air, as the snow began to fall, baking the street in a soft beauty it otherwise wouldn't have.   
  
She wouldn't admit that though.   
  
_Not ever._  
  
Her bare hand in Ron's gloved one, Pansy smirked deviously to herself as she passed a tavern, wondering what mischief she could get him to commit this Christmas with liquor in him. Last Christmas, she had managed to persuade a drunken Ron to perform a strip-tease for her, and while it hadn't been the sexual event she had hoped, it had made her drop the last wall she had been clinging to. _I love you_ had always sounded so weak until Pansy said it then, his eyes widening as his arms dropped from above his head. Pansy was only thankful he remembered when he woke Christmas morning, not sure she could find the courage to repeat those words so soon.   
  
"I did this with my dad every year," Ron announced, a soft glow to his cheeks and nose. "I know y'probably think he's a bit... much. But, he's _just_ fascinated, y'know?"   
  
Looking up at the red-suited inflatable, Pansy allowed her smirk to spread into a smile. "I can, somewhat, understand his curiosity."   
  
Ron's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "You... _can_?"  
  
Pansy nodded curtly, averting her eyes to the next house, her boots cutting into fresh snow that crunched into the ground. She wrapped her fingers more intently around his, rather enjoying the feel of the mohair glove against her skin.   
  
"Are you cold?"   
  
Her head turned, brows knitted as she frowned at him, taken back by the snowflakes that had settled on his red eyelashes. "Of course _not_. What makes you ask?"   
  
Ron shrugged. "Just caring." She bristled, softening her expression as he smiled. "Thanks for coming, Pans."   
  
"Ugh, its fine," Pansy groaned. "I'm your... _girlfriend_. Some of this is contracted, I’m sure."   
  
His laugh filled the air, and while they had been together for nearly 18-months, it still surprised her how warm it felt to hear. "Yes, well. You do it with so _much_ joy that I feel I should thank you."   
  
"Do not."   
  
Ron tugged her close, and Pansy almost slipped into him before she caught herself. "Sarcasm isn't just for _Slytherins_."   
  
"And magic isn't _just_ for Hogwarts, Ronald. You don't need to dress so hideously when you could perform a simple _Warming_ _Charm_."   
  
Coming to a stop, Ron pulled her close, his eyes tracing her eyes before looking up at her hair, and she could only imagine the spectacle it was. The wet never did anything good for her, always making her appear frizzy and a bit of a mess. Even now, after all the years that had passed, Pansy could still hear the distant grumblings of her—  
  
"You, Pansy Parkinson, _are_ beautiful," Ron said warmly, as though he knew where her thoughts had gone.   
  
She blinked, forcing back emotions and tears before they built. "Oh, _Merlin_ , Ronald. Please do _not_ propose."   
  
"I'm not," he said sharply before clearing his throat and offering a guilty smile. "When I propose, _you'll_ know about it." She remained silent, straightening her smile into a thin line to force herself not to laugh. "And not because I'll make an idiot out of myself."   
  
Pansy began to roll her eyes before she paused it at the feel of his lips against her forehead.   
  
"I'm serious though, Pans. You're _so_ beautiful, and you make me so happy," Ron said, and she watched as a dorky expression moving over his face. "I'm forever grateful you decided to _slum it_ and visit my brothers' shop."   
  
She shook her head, her cheeks beginning to burn as a blush passed over them. "You're _still_ the worst."   
  
"I know—"   
  
"And I'm not budging on that," Pansy said louder, interrupting whatever he was about to profess. "But, I would like to continue our walk in the snow."   
  
Ron's lips twitched before curling into one of his grins—one that Pansy didn't mind so much now. "You like the lights, don't you?"  
  
Scoffing, Pansy tugged him as she motioned to continue their walk. "I do _not_ , Ronald," she lied as her eyes moved to a nearby house.   
  
They settled on a home a little further ahead, the decorations much more tasteful, with a clear running theme. If she had one of those things Granger used to make Floo calls and take photos, she would have snapped one to show Draco. But what caught her eye was a sparkling star in the window. It was one she was enamoured by immediately; one she wouldn't even mind having on her own house.   
  
With him. _Ron_.   
  
Somewhere it _always_ snowed at winter, with a roaring fire like the one he had described from his common room, and hot chocolate like Ron's father made on Christmas Eve. She would even get a tree and decorate it herself—although she wouldn't suggest doing it without magic. How Potter did it, she did not know. She'd _even_ wear a jumper, one knitted by Ron's mother, and she'd even wear it with pride.   
  
Pansy curled into Ron's arm, feeling the last piece of ice thaw from around her heart, Pansy realised she wouldn't have minded too much if Ron had proposed. But only if he had gotten down on one knee, and spoken to Draco—because it would be him who gave her away.   
  
And only if it sparkled, like the star in the window.   
  
Pansy wondered if she should say something, drop a hint off what she most desired. But when she turned her head to look at him, seeing the reflections of the star in his eyes, Pansy realised—quite quickly—she had _everything_ she needed already.


End file.
